Wanting…. To Feel It

Even though you are here…

I am alone

I run through my heart

And no one’s home

Even though you are talking

I can’t hear

It’s like I’m driving away

Forgetting to steer

Everything is spinning

I want to feel it

Everyone is so in love

Just want to feel it

It takes everything in me

To not feel it.

Diane Reed

2011

Like Oxygen

Do you ever wake up and just have to write? I have found that in the morning especially, writing is like oxygen to me. Perhaps it is because sleeping and dreaming and writing all have some magical connection that is a bit like a fleeting vapor. The memory of a dream or the perfect words you wanted to remember all seem to slip through our fingers upon awakening.  Sometimes remembering what I have dreamt of is such a hazy memory, I wish that I could  capture it in a bottle so that I could have it to refer to later and yet later never comes. And as the day goes by, I often forget what it was that made me feel so intense and usually feel the disappointment of forgetting the whole thing.

This morning I woke up and realized that I get up early for that very reason. To capture the words that dance inside of my head just begging to get out before I forget. So with no interruptions I try to duplicate the messages from my dreams. I have painted a picture or baked a new recipe in much the same way, In the hopes that in sharing my creation, someone else will as I often say…. just “GET IT” and connect with me in a way that is hard to explain. Understanding is such an intimate thing we all share in different ways. A reader’s response to our writing is perhaps much in the same way a chef might feel as he watches and waits for the reaction upon our faces when we taste the first bite of something wonderful that  he just created and in turn,  that small response makes it all worth his efforts.

(Sorrrrry, I just had to use this picture to make you guys smile!)

I can’t afford to go to a writer’s seminar right now but I know that whenever I find another writer in my own walk of life… someone who is also writing (or has written) a book or blogs…. it is like magic. Our souls just connect and we are bonded. I remember in seventh grade I met another writer who wrote because she just wanted to, no assignments made her write. like me she wrote because she had to. We became friends. We read each each other’s stuff. I am not sure why we didn’t keep in touch. Funny, I haven’t thought of her for a long time. At the risk of sounding redundant, meeting other writers is magical.  It doesn’t happen as often as I would like. I mean if I were a quilter, I could join a quilting club or if I sewed, I could probably run into others who shared my interest at a fabric counter. But writers aren’t as obvious. There is no AA group at the local church for writers. And so I am grateful that I have found you guys and can at least, rub elbows with you cyberly!

Have a great Sunday!

In my love for a wonderful metaphor I dish this one up for all writers and ask you all….

: “Just exactly why do you write?” Use a metaphor to answer if you like!

The words come like oxygen as she breathes to take them in,

They happen with no warning  for when they’ll begin or end.

She just has to go with it, as they dance upon her screen…

A recipe of words she writes not knowing what they’ll mean.

So she serves them with the hope that somewhere else on this earth

someone will read what she writes and they’ll somehow see their worth,

like a chef putting the final touches, garnishing his plate,

a writer posts their words and then silently has to wait.

As readers taste her efforts,  taking the time to read,

she prays that somewhere in her words, they’ll find what they might need,

pricking the heart of someone who needs the words she just wrote

as they in turn leave her their own words in a grateful note.

Diane Reed

2013

Being Strong

It’s not about muscles that make people think we’re strong,

it’s not about the faults of other’s that makes you the one not wrong,

it’s not about the things we do so that others see them too,

It’s more in our transparency that gives us each  a better view.

 

It’s when I’ve seen the strongest man bend down upon his knees

to wipe the tears from a child’s eyes as he listens to his pleas,

it’s when he stops to hold a stranger’s door even when he’s in a hurry

or calls his wife each time he’s late, knowing that she might be worried.

It’s when he brings her flowers home for really no reason at all,

it’s when he’s kneeling in prayer that makes him seem so tall.

All these things show more strength than any winner of a fight,

for strength is in the example of always trying to do what’s right.

Someday we’ll all look back and see things from a different point of view

we’ll see the things we did and the things we wished we didn’t do,

we’ll wonder why we were stubborn and just couldn’t let things go,

we’ll each learn different things about ourselves we wish that we had known.

We all will someday end up at the same place of awakening

where we each  meet our Maker, at a time when our heart is breaking,

where we fall upon our knees, realizing where we did it wrong,

and in that moment of weakness it is then we’ll be most strong.

by

Diane Reed

 September 2013

Funny Little Flower Shorts

I woke up to this wonderful post this morning. This is my daughter’s blog. She doesn’t write quite as often as I do so when she does it is a special treat for me! She used to tag along to my art shows and now she has me tagging along to hers! She is a talented actress and moved to Los Angeles over five years ago to pursue her dreams of becoming one. She has finished school, and continues to take classes and has joined SAG which is not a small task in it’self. Her jobs that she works are all acting related but in the mean time she has started “crafting” in a way of sculpting and painting and everytime she creates something new I am blown away. It’s funny, when she was younger, I could tell that she was a talented writer. Once her English teacher even cried when he read something that she wrote. I hoped that her degree would be pursuing writing in someway. Now she is writing screenplays and living her life with a passion that makes me glad that I didn’t hold her back from doing exactly what she was good at… And at the risk of sounding a bit like a BRAG BOOK…. It seems like THAT is just about a little of everything! Please take the time to follow my best friend on her journey as she becomes exactly who she is supposed to be.

Fern & Bone

My grandmother used to sew clothes for us from funny Walmart patterns with wonderfully dated fabrics. I recently found an old pair stuffed in a drawer at my parents’ house and I’ve been wearing them while sculpting and painting. They are oversized with a black on white flower pattern circa 1970s, or so they look. They also flare out like a skirt. But they are so comfy. I’ve had them since I was a kid and my cousin had a matching pair, only then, they went all the way down to our knees. I remember rolling out of bed every weekend around noon, after my grandma would peak her head in the door for the 5th time pleading with Danielle and me to get out of bed, worried that “it’s not healthy.” We’d probably find some fresh baked banana bread or bran muffins (which don’t sound amazing but oh, they…

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The Other Side Of The Fence

Today I have a wonderful neighbor. Their backyard is magical. And I appreciate living next to them everyday! I have been blessed with great neighbors in the different places that I have lived. Some have become life long friends. But I do remember once upon a time when my neighbor was horrible. She hated me till the day she died I think. It was sad. I even had dreams of her liking me. It bothered  me so much. I’d gotten a notice about BIG Refuse Pick Up Day that our city offered annually. It was a day that you could put big things out and the city would come and haul them away.

I was young and probably not as gracious as I am now  🙂  And looking back, I could have been a little more tactful. But I left a note on my neighbor’s van offering my husband’s help to move her washers and dryers out to the curb if she so chose. I thought that it was an innocently helpful and quite neighborly offer. The appliances had been facing my kitchen door since we’d moved in almost a year earlier. She’d never been particularly friendly even before we moved in, but that note caused WORLD WAR III between us. She was not a very happy person to begin with and later I learned that she had a lot of issues that I was not aware of.

They say hind sight is 20/20 and I think that I understand her position better now. She was probably about my age then, that I am now and I was barely 30. She might have been a little offended because I was so much younger and perhaps she thought… came across as pompous though I really just wanted to make sure she had not missed the notice. Though if we are being honest here… I really did not want to look at her appliances staring back at me for another year, I wish that I’d done nothing now. I don’t like when someone doesn’t like me. But then not everyone liked Jesus. So why should I expect more?  But it really wasn’t worth it. And looking  back if it had not been that note… it would have been something else. She was just looking for an enemy. There are just some people that I have run into in my life, that I haven’t been able to win over with my irresistable charm, believe it or not!  😉

Though she did have a daughter that ended up being a blessing and we became friends when she found The Lord and we discovered that our birthdays were on the same day. It was a friendship that evolved with a lot more hard work than I am used to when it comes to cultivating  friendships; We had kids around the same age and when they did not get along, I think she expected drama between the moms, where I felt it was important for the kids to just work it out. But in the end, a friendship evolved and the kids grew up and got along and  it is a sweet memory how I see God worked it all out. And now I am glad that I made the effort.

This morning I’ve been watching a marathon, a show called House Hunters, and one of the episodes was about a couple looking over into the neighboring  yard filled with junk and it made me flash on my memories of those neighbors….

Soooo…. I thought I’d write a more lighthearted post today with a little message to remind us all about judgment even when we feel we are on the right side of the fence. Today I am getting ready to work in my yard and it made me wonder what “my neighbors” see on their other side of the fence.

The Other Side Of The Fence

I looked over the fence and what did I see?

A few  piles of junk staring right back at me

two washers and three dryers lined up in a row

If they ever worked, I guess we’ll never know

As I peeked through the fence I was so horrified

it looked like a graveyard where someone had died

a few bird cages, an old bike and a barbecue now twisted

all toppled on each other as if they never existed

I tried to smile and I tried to be nice

and tried not to scream when I saw all the mice

I even waved hello when the neighbors came out

to see what it was that I was  shouting about

I didn’t want to offend them by gawking some more

even though I’d just purchased the house right next door!

Diane Reed

2013

(Sometimes we don’t always see past our own fences)

Lord help me to not be so fast to judge!

“But I say to you who hear, Love your enemies, do good to those who hate you,

Luke 6:27 ESV

Through The Gate

The sun splashed across the morning sky

as I woke up early and opened my eyes.

I jumped out of bed and slowly yawned

as I looked out the window to greet the dawn.

Nothing had changed in the night before;

I had the same problems I couldn’t ignore.

But something inside of me couldn’t give up,

it nudged me and pushed me till I finally got up!

Yesterday I decided to just stay in bed,

as angry voices screamed in my head.

it was easier to just give in to their  call,

but then…yesterday, nothing got done at all!

So I decided today to not let them win!

I’d take control and give it to HIM!

It’s all in the choices  we ultimately make.

To walk through the garden, or stay stuck at it’s gate!

Diane Reed

2013

It is God who arms me with strength, And makes my way perfect.   

 Psalm 18:32

Don’t Sweat The Small Stuff… and is it really all small stuff?

I follow a blog by a fellow blogger and follower of my blog named Dyan, that challenges us to find  things to be grateful for in life. She is faithful in her commitment to write a daily word of encouragement and it has become an easy read. Today’s seemed to trigger a memory for me. It made me STOP and really see what I have been doing for over a decade… I realized that I am afraid to just let go and be grateful. To live in the moment to not worry about yesterday or tomorrow to just be grateful for something as simple as the ability to enjoy jam on my toast in the morning. I know it sounds funny… but some of you GET me so well…  I know you’ll understand.

Here is an excerpt from her post today:

It may be small, like the peach jam on your toast in the morning, pretty flowers that you pass on a walk – or it can be big, like a job opportunity we are presented with.  But if we are watching for things to be grateful for through our days, we will find them.  Living gratefully, purposely taking time to be grateful every day will bring us more things to be grateful for.  That is a great reason to keep a gratitude list every day.

To read the whole thing… here it is:

http://dyandiamond.net/2013/09/03/why-be-grateful/

Well over ten years ago, I remember picking up an article in the waiting room of a medical office where I had my yearly exam. It was an excerpt from the book…”Don’t sweat the small stuff… And it’s all small stuff” We’ve all heard about it since. But it was new to me then. As a child, I always worried. I have since realized I’d become a co-dependent at an early age and always seemed to be waiting for something bad to happen.

I remember really reading every word and deciding that I was going to stop and smell the flowers just as I was called in for my turn… I remember light heartedly changing into the paper gown and waiting for the doctor. We made the usual small talk and then the expression on his face changed. It got more serious. He’d found a lump in my throat. It was strange… I never felt it……….  I think at that moment the whole thing about not sweating the small stuff was extracted from my memory.

For the next few weeks, appointments for surgeons and ultra sounds all filled the parts of my brain that was going to not sweat anything. I’ve always tried to protect my kids from my problems but somehow my daughter found out and demanded to know what was going on and then promptly prayed for me. It was a sweet simple prayer but ever since she was little, when she prayed she believed that God really heard her and kind of just expected Him to take care of everything. (If only we all could have that childlike faith!) After an ultra sound and a surgeon not finding anything at his exam it all seemed to have been a mistake or had it? Perhaps there had been something there and God heard the prayers of a child…my sweet daughter.
I just know that as I read Dyan’s blog today… it triggered a memory. I think at that moment in the Doctor’s office… I’d decided to truly not sweat the small stuff and then in the next moment… I’d been hit by a Mack Truck… not small stuff by any sense of the imagination. I am not sure what happened… maybe it was a mistake… maybe even the devil… but I think I was afraid to not sweat the small stuff ever again…. I think that I have been sweating it ever since… trying to be grateful… but always with one eye cocked over my shoulder… All I know is that this little reminder pricked a memory about never trusting anyone or anything with the free abandonment of thinking it is all small stuff because it can change at any moment. I guess that since then… I’ve always waited for the other shoe to fall. Nor have I ever completely relaxed since.

I know that life isn’t necessarily without catastrophe. Since that day… I’ve experienced illness of loved ones, earthquakes, and even death. But I have also experienced answered  prayer, good health and the miracle of birth.  I know it’s not all small stuff. But this little daily reminder, this once a day dose of being grateful really made me take a look at where I stopped appreciating the moment and began trying to deny it’s existence. I’ve been seriously robbed by the joy of relaxing in my gratitude. Like a thief in the night it was snatched from me. Today is a new day and I am just grateful to be sitting here knowing it. And I am grateful for all of God’s Vessels who come into my life with messages as way of their blogs. Perhaps this one might remind you to not sweat the small stuff and though it might not all be small stuff… to recognize when it is and to trust God with the rest! Have a grateful day!

A baby smiles and I see a glimpse of heaven.

A flower grows from a crack in the cement.

A stranger holds the door open…

Are these messages possibly Heaven sent?

A garden’s fragrance, a butterflies wings

A sunrise inside the warmth of dawn

A child’s laughter, a friend’s simple note

when you thought you couldn’t go on…

A slice of toast with some special jam

warm socks on a cold morning

Ahhh such is the joy in feeling grateful

that appears in my heart without warning.

Diane Reed

2013

Our Blogging Neighborhood

I know that I’ve written about this before. But I just can’t get over the connection I have with some of you.  When I started blogging, I was pretty much doing it for me. A place to store my rambilings and perhaps share some of it with my close friends. But then… Oh and then…  something magical happened.

You guys did!

Thank you for happening to me!

 

I used to pick up my pen to write

when I was there, at my desk alone.

I would write and then re-read

and my feedback was  my own.

But somehow through the scheme of things

I opened another door

and all at once you guys came in

and I was not alone there anymore!

Somehow we’ve formed a village,

a neighborhood of those who understand.

Some of you are not too far away,

and some are in other lands.

But somehow through our passion,

through our need to feel heard;

we all have connected

through our love of the written word!

Diane Reed

2013

This was my reply to the first comment that came in…

(It fit perfectly for the way that I feel about many of you… I thought I’d cut and paste it and add it in the actual post so you understand just how important you have all become to me and how much I appreciate you!) 😉

I am so glad to have met you as well! YOU were one of the ones that inspired this. Some come and go and then come back into each of our lives. No guilt trips or expectations. Just glad to see ya when you’re here and miss you when your not. But thrilled to reconnect with those who haven’t been around a while and excited to make new friends here each day, who I might find that connection with… and when it happens… it is like magic!
I don’t need to ask anyone to read my blog or what they think… I have you all who do that for me. I loved one of the pictures here with the lights all on at night. I can just see us all inside one of those lit windows blogging away or writing our words. Regardless of where we are, in what town, in what country…. our hearts are strung together with our understanding of how important our words are!

                                                                                    Thank you!

Split Personality

Last night I woke up in the middle of the night I was so angry with someone in my dream, a few scenes later I confronted the person while we were driving. When we stopped abruptly, I slammed out of the car infuriated at something I could not seem to grasp. When I realized that I’d forgotten my purse in the car, I turned back only to find this person going through my purse and then I woke up!

I was so angry I kept trying to go back to sleep to go kick some major butt! As I look back now fully awake, I realize so clearly now that the person I was so upset with was me!

My mother in law is a Psychologist and one of her fields of expertise is dreams. She has always told me that every dream we have relates back to ourselves. That rule of thought used to frustrate me. I mean lets say we just went to the bank and we dream about a conversation we had with the teller? I’ve argued that the teller was in my dreams because of my experience with them that day. I still teeter on the fact that dreaming about experiences in your day might be just that…. residue from left over stuff in your day. But this recent dream was particularly clear to me that my mother in law’s theory pertained here.

I know that I have been robbing myself of the joy I am meant to have by being so darn angry all the time. I sneak in and fill a sunny day with dark bouts of anger about where my life is. Wanting to blame and judge and just be MAD. As if there were two of me. One opening up the blinds and letting the sun in and the other cheating me of it all by yanking the drapes shut.

In The Master’s Hands

It really is nothing new, I’ve fought it all my life

whether friend, or mother or being someone’s wife

I play the part and dance the steps, I fall and get back up

No matter how hard I’ve tried, it never seems enough

My own reflection in the mirror fights with who I am

struggling to make some sense of it and not knowing if I can

I find myself crying in the dark alleys of my soul

gripping the sides of life as I slip down through it’s hole

And so I cry out in my pain trying to understand

As I feel the strength in the grip of The Master’s Hand

Healing all my wounds through all the years gone by

As God finds me where I am…  and makes me want to try.

Diane Reed

2013